Refuse Thy Name
by Prouvaire
Summary: In which Remus J. Lupin's first name is embarrassing, and his middle name is discovered by one Sirius Black. [Slightest bit of slash.]


The moment ten year-old Remus told his name to the curious and the kind, those adults wanting to be polite to this shy little boy they found half-behind his mother, staring at the ground modestly, he would get a _look_. It was always one sort of look: the slight raise of eyebrows, the slow-coming, gentle smile, and an underlying expression that could only be described as a mix of confusion and sympathy. Sometimes the look could be translated as amusement, other times, incredulity. After all, what could this boy's mother and father be thinking when they decide to name their darling son, their _only_ son...R-e-m-u-s?

"Ree-muhs? Ree-mahs?" always came the hesitant question. "Is that how you pronounce it? Ree-mis?" Anyway they pronounced that last syllable was fine to the boy; it all sounded the same after ten years of having it shouted, cooed, and dictated at you.

"Well...what a very unique name." There was always that apologetic flattery, after the initial awkward questioning. It was unique to some, it was odd but "special" to others, and still, it could even be... "Weird, very weird name for a kid." Only the bold and frank would say that, though Remus knew everybody else must be thinking the same thing.

Glances from the boy to his mother, over and over again, were fairly common. The looks they got questioned their mental health, as well as what naming book the parents had consulted. His mother always answered for both of them, though what she said never really justified what had possessed her to choose such a name. "Doesn't he look like a Remus?" And that was it. Thank you so much, Mum, for keeping me from looking like an idiot, Remus would think.

At this point in the conversation (one was actually, right then, proceeding unhappily in real time) he'd stare at what was at the end of the grocery aisle: BUY A DOZEN KUMQUATS AND GET FIVE FREE! What a good deal! Remus really wanted to go over there and get seventeen kumquats, and maybe try to drag his mother along, too, so she'd stop unknowingly shoving her son further and further from the rainbow-colored spectrum of normal people. He loved normalcy; he wanted to be the essence, no, the _quint_essence of normalcy. Therefore, he wanted to smile, bid the dear old lady staring at he and his mother a good day, and a happy shopping experience, and go over to those lovely kumquats. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. His mother had a firm grip on his shoulder as she chatted easily with her friendly acquaintance. His mother was overprotective; he knew it, he knew she knew it, but that never stopped her. She'd always kept a hold on him since that one night six years ago, the last night she let him go where he pleased. Remus didn't blame her, nor did he really mind, aside from the times when he was being talked to, or worse, talked about. Like right now.

"Isn't that the name of the little Greek boy who got killed by his brother?" the lady asked. She looked at his mother warily. Remus made a point to keep his gaze fixed on the fruit stands beyond the aisle.

"Roman, actually. And he was an adult when he got killed, actually. And, yes, actually, that is someone who shares my son's name," his mother said, ruffling Remus' over-ruffled hair. Too many "actually's"; she was getting uncomfortable, or annoyed, or both.

"Well...I see," the lady said, nodding. She spared one more glance down at Remus, who decided not to look up at her. "Quite a darling child. And how old are you, precious?" she asked, finally deciding to bring the topic to more safer territory. She bent her knees to ridiculously bring herself to his level, all the while beaming as one would at a baby. This conversation was lasting longer than most, Remus noted, feeling his face heat up at the sudden unwanted attention he was getting.

"Uhm. Eleven?" he asked, a smile faltering and twisting his face, as they always did. The lady looked surprised, then raised herself back to his mother's height.

"I could've sworn he was seven. Oh, dear..." the lady was saying quietly, and laughing. He heard his mother's laugh, a sad one. Remus wondered if his mother hated him for looking so young.

The lady left with a cheerful goodbye, and Remus and his mother were left alone. Remus let his eyes wander up to her face: a closed expression was all he found. She picked up a can of condensed potato and leek soup, and put it into the shopping cart indifferently. "Mum?" Remus asked meekly, deciding to say something to break the horrible silence descending upon aisle 10. His mother looked down at him. "Could we get seventeen kumquats?" He pointed at the colorful sign at the end of the aisle.

"No, Remus," his mother said. Remus shifted his weight from one foot to the other uneasily. "Let's just go home," she said, pushing the shopping cart to the cashier. Remus wondered if his mother hated him for liking kumquats.

He helped her put the small amount of groceries on the cashier's counter, not saying a word. Who wanted seventeen kumquats, anyway? he thought. Let alone twelve. That was a lot of kumquats. You'd probably get sick and never want to see another kumquat in your life after eating all those.

He carried the bag out of the store for his mother, while she pushed him along with a guiding hand on his back. He opened the car door, almost spilled the contents of the bag, and got inside. His mother started the car, and then glanced at him. "There's something in the bag for you," she said, smiling. She looked beautiful when she smiled.

Remus dug around, before his fingers brushed against a cool, square-shaped thing. He pulled out a bar of dark chocolate. "Thanks," he said, his own smile lighting up his features. Kumquats had nothing on chocolate. He took a bite, and felt happy again.

Sirius showed no confusion, amusement, or interest in Remus' name when Remus had introduced himself in December of their first year at Hogwarts. Then again, Sirius didn't show any interest in Remus as a person, until the beginning of their second year, when he began to suspect there was something wrong about him.

Sadly enough, it was Remus' middle name that got something out of Sirius.

**Print your full name on the line if you wish to subscribe to _Zingin' Brooms Weekly_!** the subscription form proclaimed. Remus stared at it. "Are you sure you want this magazine? It's thirty-five galleons for a twelve-month subscription. They're ripping you off."

"No, no, no," Sirius said lightly, "they're ripping _you_ off." Remus snorted and vowed never to lose a card game to Sirius again. "Print clearly, now," he instructed, tapping the instructions with his finger. Remus frowned.

"Why don't you fill this out? The deal was I had to pay for this subscription. I could give you fifty galleons and you could send out the subscription." The voice of reason he loved to exercise occasionally in Sirius Black's presence.

Sirius looked nonplussed. "And get all the junkmail that comes along with the magazines? I refuse. You can give me the magazine each time you get it, and you can keep the junkmail. My thanks to you." He grinned cheekily.

Remus smiled in a sweetly sarcastic manner and filled out the subscription.

_Name:_ Remus John Lupin.

_Do you wish to get a free pinup witch with your first magazine sent to you:_ Uh, no.

_Do you wish to pay after your subscription has expired (check 'no' if you wish to pay immediately):_ Yes.

_Please print youraddress here:_ Okay.

He scribbled out "Hogwarts" and handed it to Sirius. Sirius nodded approvingly, eyes scanning over the form. "All right, now if we can get this to-" He stopped and stared at the form, before staring at Remus. Remus wished he had a box to put over his head; his nose suddenly felt huge, his body extremely scarred and skinny.

"What did I do?" he asked, uncomfortably. A slow smile spread over Sirius' face.

"_John_, is it?" he asked. "Remus...John...Lupin."

Remus stared blankly at Sirius. "Yes," he said. "I don't see what's so strange about it." But Sirius was grinning like a maniac.

"You don't look like a John, Johnny boy. Mister Keats, hahaha, Johnny Rotten." He patted Remus on the head in a very annoying fashion. Remus sighed.

"I thought the 'J' stood for 'Jane' all this time, you know," Sirius said, suddenly wearing a completely serious expression.

Remus looked at Sirius with half-veiled dismay. "Well, no. John's my father's name, so. I got it. As a middle name, that is."

"My middle name is Altair, you know," Sirius said, with no shame. "Can I call you Johnny boy?"

Remus unsuccessfully attempted to hide a smile. "No. I'd prefer if you called me Remus," he said.

Sirius grinned. "Come on. That's like insulting your father, not letting me call you John."

"My father thought it insulting that I had his name." What! What was he saying! Why were words coming out of his mouth? "After I got the bite." Remus didn't know if he should be telling Sirius this. But Sirius was looking at him in a way that made him want to continue. He did.

"He thought that he'd have a strong, normal son to carry on his name. He's very serious about things like that, I suppose. And fathers usually give their sons their names...whether it's their middle name or first name." He was on the verge of babbling. He continued on, straightforwardly in intelligent Remus style.

"But he wanted to name me Remus, because..." he paused, staring at the covers of his bed. Sirius had twisted them from squirming too much. "Well...I really don't know," he said. "I think...from the start, from when I was born, that is, I disappointed him. I think he was always expecting a second son, one that wouldn't be quite like me."

"Why was he disappointed in you?" Sirius asked, his expression normal, one of mild interest.

"Before I got the bite? I have no idea," Remus said. His voice had lowered in volume, the way it did whenever he got uncomfortable. "We don't really talk that much, so I've never...really asked him. Or. Gotten some sort of clue as to what I did..." He stopped there.

"Well. At least you have a good mother, eh?" Sirius said, smiling. He stood. Time to get the letter to the owlery.

"Yes," Remus said. Sirius pulled him against his strong side, a guiding arm guiding him down the stairs, through the common room, and into the chilly halls. "And a good father; don't get me wrong. He's fine." He smiled back.

"Anyone who doesn't appreciate you cannot possibly be that good of a person. Or father," Sirius said, in a way that made Remus think he was saying it to himself. He reached out and patted Remus on the head in that infuriating manner. "I mean, you're just too damned cute."

Remus smiled and removed Sirius' hand from his head, the arm from his shoulders. "Thank you," he said flatly, "but cute boys mean nothing to fathers."

"They mean something to me," Sirius said with a leer at Remus, as they passed through the Great Hall. Remus smiled helplessly, and stopped pushing the subject. It was too much, having Sirius flirt purposelessly when one was trying to focus on something that wouldn't make him uncomfortable.

Oh, look, in the fruit bowl on the table. A kumquat. Remus picked it up, and chucked it at the leering Sirius.


End file.
